


Coming Home

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gender or Sex Swap, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Artifacts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Argent, don't!" Peter leaps forward as Chris' hand curls around the leg of the wooden doll left behind after the witches vanished. He's just touched the corkscrew blonde curls when there's a flash of darkness that seems to suck them both in, and when Peter comes back to himself, he feels wrong, off somehow, and then the thought flees as he looks up and sees the hunter.</p><p>“Christopher,” he breathes, and then the sound of his own voice is off and he looks down at himself. And then closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Goddammit, Argent,” he growls, “You had to fucking touch the witch doll.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Petopher! Gender-swap artifact!

"Argent, don't!" Peter leaps forward as Chris' hand curls around the leg of the wooden doll left behind after the witches vanished. He's just touched the corkscrew blonde curls when there's a flash of darkness that seems to suck them both in, and when Peter comes back to himself, he feels wrong, off somehow, and then the thought flees as he looks up and sees the hunter.

“ _Christopher_ ,” he breathes, and then the sound of his own voice is off and he looks down at himself. And then closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Goddammit, Argent,” he growls, “You had to fucking touch the witch doll.”

They just stand there, glaring in silence, until Stiles skids into the clearing, and flails himself to a halt.

“Uh, hey ladies,” he says, flashing his fake grin, “You don't happen to be witches, do you?”

Both Chris and Peter turn and look at the teenager, and his smile falters, until Derek bounds into the clearing, landing with a backflip and a snarl.

Peter rolls his eyes. “Could you make a more dramatic entrance?”

Derek takes a step forward, and then halts, nostrils flaring, and then the look of confusion that crosses his face makes Peter smirk in amusement.

“Peter?”

“In the flesh,” Peter sneers, then looks down at himself. “More or less.”

Stiles ogles the cleavage trying to spill out of the wolf's ridiculously low v-neck. “Little bit _more_ I'd say.”

Chris smacks the kid upside the back of the head with the palm of his hand, prompting a protest by Stiles. “Hey, it's true, Peter's a hot chick!”

“I thought I was the hot girl...” Everyone turns to blink at Scott a moment as Stiles snickers, and then Chris smacks him in the back of the head again.

“Rude,” he says, the icy blue eyes still having the quelling affect they've always had on the youngsters.

“We are going to _have_ to take you shopping,” Lydia opines from where's she's leaning against a tree, also ogling Peter...who just might be preening under all the attention.

Chris sighs and rolls his eyes, reaches out and curls a smaller, but no less strong, hand around Peter's bicep and tugs him toward the SUV. “We need to see Deaton.”

First thing Chris does when he gets in the car, is to reach into the glovebox and pull out a hairtie, pull his newly long blonde locks into a ponytail. Peter arches an admittedly perfect eyebrow and Chris shrugs. “Allison used to keep them there for hunts. Long hair gets in the way.”

“You seem to be taking this all very well,” murmurs Peter as he pokes at his new, curvier chest.

Chris shrugs. “Not that different from being injured. New center of gravity, have to make adjustments here and there. I can still hunt.”

“...that's it, hm?”

Chris is silent a long moment, then nods. “It's all I've got.”

Peter feels an unaccustomed moment of empathy and crushes it out ruthlessly.

-

Deaton, as Peter could have predicted, doesn't know anything but thinks that he might have heard of something that has a brief chance of working but they might have to get used to their new bodies.

“So....” Stiles starts, and Peter can see Chris setting his jaw out of the corner of the wolf's eye. “Do we call you Christina and Petra? She/her?” He waggles his brows in a truly ridiculous fashion. “Ladies?”

Both older men fix him with dark glares.

“Dude, seriously! What do we call you?”

“Same thing you always have, you idiot,” Derek puts in from where he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Just because their outside is different doesn't change their inside.”

“That'd be very profound if I hadn't seen you checking Chris' new ass out,” Stiles sneers.

“He checks it out when Chris has male parts, too,” Peter stage whispers.

-

Chris shifts in his bed for the thousandth time, with a muttered curse. He can't seem to get comfortable, his bed feels wrong and his pajamas pull too tight around the hips, and the t-shirt he's wearing to sleep in isn't all that comfortable, but sleeping shirtless as he usually does was even worse.

He hears a thump on the patio, and has a weapon in either hand in the next breath. At least his reflexes hadn't dulled.

Chris slides from his bed and creeps down the hallway to where he can see the balcony, and the wolf with the broken leg on it. Peter is laying on his back, patiently waiting for the snapped bone to heal, but he turns his head as he hears Chris' heartbeat, brushing dark locks out of his face in frustration.

Chris chuckles as he leans against the doorframe and looks Peter over. “Center of gravity is different.”

“No shit,” Peter grumbles with a sigh, and then a muffled curse as Chris scoops him up in the hunter's arms. “The hell are you doing Argent?”

“Putting you on the couch til that heals, and then I'm going to put my patio back to rights.”

Peter grumbles, but wraps his arms around Chris' neck. “You do make a beautiful woman, Christopher,” he says softly.

Chris grunts. “I've seen myself in the mirror.”

“Did you...do anything else?” Peter asks curiously as Chris settles him on the couch, pulls the leg straight so that it doesn't heal crooked.

Chris rolls his eyes. “I suppose you did.”

“Tried,” Peter mutters, “Couldn't figure out how it all worked.”

Chris can't help a soft snicker as he heads back to balcony, and Peter grumbles. “Not really my area you know.”

Chris purses his lips and pauses a couple heartbeats and then steps through the doorway.

He does know. Or at least he did once.

-

Chris wakes up two hours later to a warm softness pressed into his back and a delicate arm curved around his waist, and for one brief heartbreaking second he thinks it's Victoria, and then the reality of it comes crashing down on him, and Chris clenches his fists and grits his teeth, pushing that emotion back in the box where it belongs.

“Peter, why are you in my bed?”

The wolf's voice is muffled against his back, thick and soft with sleep. “Lonely. I'm always all alone now.” He trails off as he falls back to sleep and Chris has about thirty seconds of internal debate before he turns within Peter's grasp, and pulls the sleeping werewolf close, rests Peter's head on his newly acquired chest, and cards a hand through the werewolf's long brown hair.

“It's going to be alright,” he whispers, “I'm going to fix everything.” _Somehow_.

-

Three days later sees Chris in Mexico, striding right up to the Calavera compound and demanding to see his Aunt Araya.

“ _Christophe_ ,” she says smoothly, barely a blip of an emotion running across her face at the sight of him. “If your father could see you now.”

Chris sets his jaw and glares at her, but it's not as if he hadn't had the same thought himself. If he had been born female, someone who Gerard could groom into the matriarch, someone that he could control, his life would have gone a lot differently.

“I need a cure,” is all he says though, they both know where they stand on Gerard Argent.

Araya studies him a moment. “ _Si_ , I think I have something.”

-

Peter doesn't thank him, of course not. He simply looks down at himself once he's restored, then nods and strides off into the trees.

But that night Chris leaves the balcony door unlocked, and wakes up to an armful of werewolf as Peter crawls in with him and buries his nose in the nape of the older man's neck.

Chris smiles softly, kisses the top of Peter's head, and goes back to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to tag anything.
> 
> [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


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